Lahirien
by Aurorien
Summary: The story of one peculiar she-elf tring to find her place...
1. Mae govannen again!

Okay!

::rubs hands together::

Here we go!

Again, I don't own 'em (wish I did)!

I only own Lyre and her mum (and others who will be introduced as we go along).

As before, I don't know how often I'll be able to update, but I'll try to do so as often as I can, and I'll make the chapters as long as possible.

I can't promise no cliffhangers, though! ::ducks projectiles:: Just one or two! ::is beaned in the forehead with a marshmallow peep:: I'm gonna kill Madi for putting my name on that list!

-note- My "best friend" signed me up in the Official Marshmallow Peep Fan Club. They've been sending me junk mail, but no free marshmallows. There's something wrong with this picture!

Okay, enough with the craziness! (Maybe…)

Lol! Enjoy!

Feedback is welcome…nay, begged for…

Just press the pretty blue button down there…c'mon… y'know you want to…

-Rori


	2. Prologue

Okay, here we go again… This story has been totally redone and re-titled… Actually, still working on the title part. Not sure yet… Anyway. There was just so much information regarding the Eldar in the Second Age that I decided to shift my story forward several thousand years into the Third Age (and to change the background info a little). Anyway, I hope it will be easier to keep things in canon now… Onward!

Prologue

It was a frigid night, and the cold air that moved through the mountain pass only made it seem colder. From above, the two travelers huddled in their gray cloaks seemed to the watching mountains to be no more than moving pebbles

The cold wind blew, and though the elf could not feel its bite as his companion did, he still felt uncomfortable. The storm that spent its fury around them had continued for nearly two days, and the elf could feel his companion weakening. They refused to turn aside, however, making for a small refuge in the Misty Mountains.

Suddenly, the elf became alert. His head snapped up, and the wind blew his dark hair into his face. He could not see nor hear anything, but something had warned his senses that a presence drew nigh. A presence that did not mean to help them.

His sudden tenseness startled his companion, who drew herself from the shelter of his body and turned her head, seeking the source of the disturbance. With her long brown hair coming loose and obscuring her vision, she saw nothing, but a prickle at the base of her neck told her the same thing.

Evil was coming for them.

The small woman closed her eyes, her mind and spirit reaching for the water that was her strength, that gave her her power. Finding naught but a small rivulet nearly a league off, she sighed and drew her daggers.

The elf groaned quietly, knowing without asking what the result of her silent search had been. He drew his long silvery blade, silently falling into position at the woman's back. Both stretched their senses as far as they could, trying to detect some sort of movement that would reveal the intent of their foes.

Without any warning, large black shapes flew at them from the surrounding cliffs, shrieking in unearthly tones as they swooped down upon the two travelers. The elf and the woman moved as one being, each guarding the other's back as they traded blows with the creatures. The elf moved with grace and agility, his greater speed accounting for many death blows; the woman alternated between thrown blades and quick, deadly strikes, drawing seemingly endless numbers of daggers from their hidden sheaths.

No matter how many times they seemed to have slain the creatures, however, they would not die. The elf watched in horrified amazement as a cloaked figure that he had just beheaded rose from the snow, picked up his sword, and charged him again. Setting himself resolutely, the elf met the creature's blade, his fear beginning to rise.

The woman knew her weaknesses, and she knew that her strength would not outlast that of these creatures. What were they? What manner of dark beings could defeat death?

Her wonderings were interrupted by the arrival of another creature.

This… thing… was much worse, she decided. As the impossible tall figure dismounted from its dark mount, the horse-like creature stamped, red hellfire shining in its eyes. The woman shrank back unconsciously as the other dark figures stopped their attack, forming a circle around the two travelers.

The elf eyed the newcomer warily, fear and uncertainly beginning to overcome him. He stepped in front of the woman, shielding her from the thing's gaze.

It drew its sword, and then paused.

"I know you, kinslayer," it said in a whispery, unearthly voice. The elf started, his green eyes snapping to the hidden face beneath the hood.

"Dwimmerlaik," he snarled, disgusted. "You would be behind this. I had thought that you had perished in the fires of Barad-Dur."

The hooded figure almost seemed to smile. "You were mistaken, kinslayer."

The elf's gaze did not waver. "Pity."

The hooded figure seemed to rest his gaze on the woman, who was visible over the elf's shoulder. "And who is this beauty, who has the audacity to enter my domain, traveling with a murderer no less?"

The woman's eyes hardened as she masked her fear. "Speak not of what you do not understand, creature of darkness. My name is of no consequence to you."

The dark figure laughed, a sound that sent shivers up and down the spines of both woman and elf.

Without warning the woman felt a presence in her head; it seemed to rake claws through her mind. Her thoughts were invaded before she could blank her mind, before she could erect any kind of mental barrier. She screamed silently as pain lanced though her, stubbornly clamping her lips together to prevent herself from making any kind of sound. The creature's terrible laugh echoed inside her head as she felt the terrible presence withdraw.

The elf attempted to leap at the creature, but two of its minions moved forward and seized him, holding him motionless. The hooded figure knocked the weakened woman to the ground where she sat, staring up at the cloaked figure in horror.

He laughed again. "Kinslayer! Never do you cease to surprise me!" He turned to the woman. "A servant of Ulmo! A water sprite!" His screeching laughter echoed on the surrounding cliffs, nearly overpowering the elf and the woman/

Finally controlling his ill mirth, the dark creature turned to the elf. "So you have finally found your mate, kinslayer. Strange indeed that such a pure being would choose to share her life with a murderer like yourself. Still, you might have moved a bit faster; it took you, what, one hundred millennia?" He reached over to stroke the hair of the woman, who leapt back and was immediately seized in the cold grip of two of the minions.

"She is quite pretty, my friend. A pity indeed that your time with her will be cut so tragically short," he commented.

The elf held very still, green fire flashing in his eyes. "I will slay you for this, Dwimmerlaik. Your death shall be by my hand."

The creature smirked. "You and your kinsman have a propensity for making unfulfillable oaths, elf. Do you not remember how another promise put the blood of your kin on your hands?" He laughed again. "Your people have certainly not forgotten. Is it a wonder they shun you?"

Before the elf could reply, the creature grasped the woman's hair, yanking her head back violently. He gazed directly into the elf's eyes as he drew his sword. "Perhaps you needs must be reminded of the stain a loved one's blood can inflict upon your soul."

The woman's violet eyes, though wide with fear, gazed steadily at the elf. Violet met green as she gave him her love one last time, praying to the Valar that he would forgive her.

The creature leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Bid farewell to your beloved, little one." She gazed at the cloaked face, unable to make out his features. As he raised his sword, her head shot forward. Wincing as chunks of hair pulled loose, she tore herself from the creatures' grasp and ran.

She only made it two steps when the dark creature's blade swung.

Powerless to move, the elf could only watch as her body fell, the wash of blood spreading quickly, staining the snow scarlet.

He roared, a red haze overpowering his senses. He lunged forward bare-handed, his sword lying forgotten in the snow.

The creature's sword flashed once more, and surprise showed on the elf's face, the blood wrath in his gaze fading as death took him.

The creature watched him fall, wiping his bloodstained blade on the clean snow. He looked at the dying elf and said, "Always rash, kinslayer."

Turning away, he saw something glimmer in the snow. As his servants disappeared into the darkness, he picked up the elf's sword. When his hand touched it, he nearly dropped it, such was the power that the blade held. Unable to carry it for fear of being burned, he wrapped it in a cloth and mounted his dark steed.

He rode away, leaving two bodies lying together, the crimson stain spreading from the once-clean snow under their bodies


End file.
